The Guide of the Forest
by Popocuff
Summary: A boy is torn from his homeland. Crippled and confused he finds himself in a strange place with even stranger creatures. After surviving the most difficult ordeal of his life, he finds himself without purpose. He seeks fulfillment in a paradise that binds him there. Without reason to leave the boy flourishes, but secretly he is looking for a way to fix his conditions.


**I would like everyone to note that I am a fanfiction virgin. So please, be gentle.**

**Disclaimer: I own neither Fairy Tail or Naruto.**

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><p>Pain. It was a word that described the story of his life and all he knew. The sensation was ever present, like the biting cold on a winter night. It nipped and chewed at his vulnerable senses, unceasing, unrelenting, and most certainly unending. It dug deeply, nestling itself in his body and mind. He had realized over the years that this reality was inescapable, and that wherever he went pain would follow in one form or another. Now the physical pains of the world took precedence over his temporarily forgotten emotional spite.<p>

His throat was raw and sore and left him unable to even utter a whisper, but this was not worst of all. His skin was burned by the sun and felt two sizes too small, but it was a mere discomfort. He tried to move his left arm, but it was a useless endeavor. The intense throbbing of his shoulder and the phantasmal feeling told him that his limb was gone, but that was hardly the worst of his ailments. His eyes were stung with salt, like a boy with soap in his eyes, and with his eyes closed he could feel _it _more acutely_._ Something just beneath the surface of his skin. Something writhed there, trying to dig deeper, like a pack of earthworms making a nest. Agony couldn't even aptly describe the feeling anymore. _It _was something beyond agony, something beyond torment, something beyond torture._ It _felt foreign, like a drop of oil in a well. _It _was unwelcome, but _it, _whatever _it_ was, was not the worst pain of all.

Something drew him forth from his spot on the damp sandy beach. _This _something wanted him to lift his broken body, to control him and bring him to where _this _was. It was like a flame trying to hypnotize a moth. No... that wasn't quite right. A magnet pulling a scrap of metal seemed closer, but it was too far off to the other side. It felt more like a puppeteer tugging at the strings of an overly heavy marionette. No matter how hard the strings pulled he could not be coerced into moving, but _this _drew him forth. _This _wanted to keep him from death's door.

Choice was a foreign concept to the boy. It had been ripped from him for years like a teddy bear taken from a sleeping baby. The only time he could recollect this freedom was when he was too young to remember his own choices to begin with. Years passed by in a lab with a mandated schedule. He was told when to eat, and to sleep, and when to use the bathroom, and any action, as he found out, was met with an equal and unpleasant reaction. But now, he had a choice. He could ignore _this _and drown in the inevitable deluge from the rising tide, or he could give in to the direction of _this_ and follow it to where it would take him. It was a pointless question. As tempting as the former option was, he already knew somewhere within his mind that he would go to wherever _this _would take him. His father had given him a task when he had met him. It would reflect poorly on the boy if he were to meet him again so soon after being assigned such a thing.

The pain of opening his eyes was a welcome distraction from _it_. The world was a blur behind his tears, but for this first time since awakening he noticed the turbulent inky clouds that hung overhead like a threat. A small break in the swirling tempest allowed a small crack of heavenly light, and only then did he know where _this _was trying to pull him. It shone at least a mile to the south. It may have been like trying to reach the end of a rainbow. _This _was insistent though, and now his damnable curiosity was beginning to get the better of him. What sort of haven or hell would he find in that light? He knew there was only one way to find out.

Using his left arm he propped himself up on his knees. His mouth opened in a silent scream, and tears glazed his cheeks. His mouth snapped shut and he grit his teeth as he rose to his feet. _This_ tugged again and he began his trek from the beach. His limbs felt like a metal machine lubricated with water. They were rusty and slow to respond, and every action caused pain to surge through his body. The only comfort he had was the pleasant feeling of the sand beneath his feet, but that comfort was soon robbed as he approached the forest that loomed over the beach. The wide expanse of landscape quickly changed to a sea of wood that swallowed him whole. The sand turned to pebbles and hard packed dirt, but there was an unexpected consequence of this change. He felt at ease here, and that in itself was uncomfortable. Wherever he had been he had always felt out of place, but not here. _This _tugged at him once more, and he banished the lingering thoughts as he focused on his own footing; careful not to hinder his own progress by stumbling.

He felt _it _then. _It _dug deeper. Where _it_ was once content to lie just beneath the layers of his skin, now it felt like _it_ was pushing through his very veins. The pain was positively paralyzing, and for a moment he felt as if he couldn't continue. His breathing came out in sharp raspy breaths and he froze with one foot in front of the other. He wrapped his remaining arm around his body and leaned forward, trying desperately to curl up on himself while still standing. He felt _this _tug at him again, and his body responded. He knew at that moment that it was a race. Would he collapse and fall unconscious from the pain first? Or would he reach where _this _called him?

Deeper and deeper it dug. _It _clawed through his muscles and went beneath bone. _It _was in his arm and in his legs and in his head. He felt _it _squirming toward his core. Towards his heart and lungs. Ethereal fingers that didn't truly exist tried to grip his shoulders and force him down, but _this _pulled again, and he obeyed. He clutched his abdomen like it was wounded. The world began to go by in a blur, and he began to feel dazed, as if he wasn't fully there. The crack of thunder sounded overhead, but it didn't phase him, nor did the lightning that turned the sky blue a mere second later. Wind swept up from behind him carrying with it the scent of the ocean. The smell seemed alien. It didn't belong in this earthly place. The leaves of the trees turned and ruffled with the breeze. He could hear something around him, like whispers in another language, but it sounded like agreement to the boy.

Deeper and deeper the forest went, and deeper and deeper did he venture. His mind was hazy, like a thick fog had been layered over his brain. Thinking clearly had become an act of futility as _it _came closer to whatever it sought inside his body. He found himself listening to the sounds of the forest that had once meant nothing more to him than a vague ambiance. Closer and closer he focused. Minute details that had once escaped his grasp, the way water slipped through your fingers, became more distinct. The way branches swayed and leaves rustled about, and the way the very same leaves fell in patterns that in his dazed mind made sense that would have otherwise eluded him. They were trying to communicate things to him he knew, but it begged the simple question: What? What did they want him to know? Did they hold promises of safety? Or perhaps retribution? The latter had seemed odd, but the rest of the world seemed to hold a vendetta against him, why exclude the trees? A single leaf fell from a tree up ahead. He watched with avid attention as the leaf turned from a glowing green to a sickly yellow before shifting to a muddy brown. His gut wrenched as he felt the distinct impression of disappointment. The boy felt _this _pull at him again as he passed the unnerving sight, but it was more urgent than before.

Before long a plateau began to loom over the forest like a silent guardian. He could feel contentedness rolling off of the trees that sat in its shadow. He stopped briefly to observe that the rays of light that broke from the roiling nimbus shone at the top of the plateau, bathing it in a light that seemed radiant. As he stood there quietly observing, he came to the startling realization that he wanted to be there on top of that plateau. He wanted to know what was there. He wanted to know why that spot in particular seemed blessed while the rest of the world around it lay beneath the shadows of a forthcoming storm. He felt a shift of a different kind. It was not _it _this time. It was something else entirely, and in an equally startling realization he concluded that _this _was no longer trying to drag him to his destination. He had already found it, and like a gear shifting he found he was no longer the marionette but instead the moth drawn in by the promise of possible warmth and light. Now curiosity, not _this_, drew him forward and he once again began his trek. His progress was grueling and agonizingly slow, but he noted that _its _progress had also slowed to a crawl as well.

His path through the forest eventually led him to a crude trail that wound up the cliff side. It began raining then. It was the simple pitter-patter of a few drops at first, but his gaze quickly caught the curtain of rain that swept forward to inevitably envelop him. The incline of the plateau was barren of all life, and he felt oddly... alone. He had always been alone. It wasn't that the feeling was foreign, it was that he hadn't realized until just a moment ago that the feeling had been absent until it once again reared its ugly head. It was a feeling that reached far past unpleasant, and if the forest was the reason for its disappearance, then he longed to be there once again, just as soon as he reached the top of this mystery. A tenacity he hadn't felt before wormed its way into his half-lidded eyes as he began scaling the plateau while wet and tortured.

The ground beneath his feet was mostly hard rock. It was unforgiving compared to the earth of the forest floor. The rain continued to pour and the very ground he walked on became slick. He tripped more than once. The bottom of his foot tore open from a jagged rock, leaving bloody footprints in his wake, but those were quickly washed away, disguising any presence he had once left. The wind howled around him, trying to force him to submit. He knew though, that if he fell he would not be able to get back up at this stage. _It _continued to sear through his body, almost as if _it_... was looking for something? He groaned in realization. _It _was after that fuzzball in his stomach. His gaze drifted towards his abdomen and what he saw surprised him on many different levels. Blue light rampaged through his veins and arteries. The light was dim towards his toes and fingers but grew steadily brighter past his ragged shorts. With each heartbeat a pulse of blue luminescence shot from his chest, like a nimbus of indigo light. The same blue light—that looked almost purple beneath his sun burnt skin—circled his abdomen, like a group of sharks waiting for their prey to finally admit defeat. The fuzzball was holding _it _back for now it seemed. He had to hurry.

A cave appeared not long afterward. The shadows brewed ominously, and hesitation ensnared his body, but only for a moment. He let loose a tired sigh, one that reverberated with experience past his age. The blackness swallowed him whole as he entered. His heart beat and a plume of blue light shattered the darkness like a mirror. Worms on the walls emitted a dull green glow, giving the boy a vague outline of the belly of the beast. His footing was unsure with only his own luminescence to guide him. Stalagmites grew from the ground like the maw of a titanic beast, and he gave himself a brief moment to marvel at their natural splendor. He noticed though that the ceiling didn't match the floor, and those strange worms were oddly absent from the ceiling, nor would the light emanating from his body reach. Apprehensive, he continued moving. The roof of the cave could keep its secrets, for now.

Water streamed through the floor of the cave, draining from the storm above. With little else to go by, the boy began following the drainage to its source. The stone floor felt smooth like a pebble from a river, and it smelled of an old musk that wasn't entirely unpleasant. He weaved through the stalagmites with little difficulty. They became less frequent as he journeyed through the cave until the stalagmites that had taken up a large amount of the floor dispersed. Up ahead column-like structures attached the floor to the roof of the cave. He assumed at first that columns were stone, but he could not have been farther from the truth. His mouth hung open halfway from shock. They weren't pillars of stone, but roots! They draped themselves from the ceiling like great swathes of cloth. They covered the floor, and built upon themselves until they reached a height that was taller than the boy was. Water trickled over the precipice and formed the small stream he had been following. He stepped closer until the fingers of his lone hand were able to brush themselves over the wet wood. A flash of emotion surged through his body. It felt like acceptance or approval, and it was an odd mix of feelings to digest for the boy. His fingers found the roots again and he was met with curiosity. It was the feeling of a man trying to figure out an oddly behaving pet. Undisguised awe etched itself onto his face.

The seal on his stomach glowed an eerie violet. _It _was close now. He needed to hurry now more than ever. As if his own need had spurred the roots he was touching, it in turn urged him to climb. He looked down to find the roots had rearranged themselves in a way that was something of a staircase. They hadn't been like that before. Without second thought he climbed the few necessary steps. His remaining hand reached the edge to balance himself. Water pooled behind the barrier of roots like a dam. Before he was even cognitive of his actions he was in the water, his head submerged and his legs crouched against the floor on the other side. A familiar agony ran rampant as his body strained against the incoming stress that a body as broken as his shouldn't have been able to handle. But it did. Something strange happened then. The water turned inwards. Folding in on itself. It compressed itself around him until the pressure of the water was causing significant pain. Without warning he shot forward like a rock propelled from a slingshot. He rocketed through the water until he met nothing but air. The water vomited him up like a man retching up his stomach. Once again he was alone with nothing but a small stream, worms and stalagmites as companions. Deep shuttering breaths were drawn as he kneeled on the cold stone. _This _tugged at him again, but not in force as it once had, instead the tug was gentle, reminding. Ahead a light shone brightly, and he realized belatedly that it was the exit. With what little strength he still possessed he managed to get back to his feet for possibly the last time.

He emerged from the cave tired and wetter than when he had entered. The rain still fell unrelentingly, but that was not why he stopped. Ahead lay a wall of vines, branches and roots. He was not sure where one began and the other ended. It was an impasse he had no way around. He walked closer until the path he trudged vanished beneath the barrier. He stared at it for what could have been hours. He could feel _it _closing in on his core. He clutched his abdomen tightly. His curiosity urged him forward again. It would not go unsatisfied. Whatever wakefulness remained of his mind began to work on figuring out a way to get past his latest obstacle. absentmindedly his fingers began tracing droplets of water over the vines. They were all intertwined like a complicated piece of needlework. There was something here though, like there had been in the forest. Something spoke to him the way the falling leaves had. In a sudden spark of lucidity he could see a pattern. The same way he had seen a pattern in the falling leaves. His eyes traced the network of vines, and not far behind his fingers followed. Brushing themselves over the wall in a way that afterwords he couldn't recollect. But whatever he had done something seemed to click to life. The branches untangled themselves from the vines, and the roots slithered back into the ground. A circular portal was left before him to enter, and with only the slightest signs of hesitation did he find himself past the wall.

It was magnificent. The second he was past that gate he could feel the rays of the sun on his back, warming and drying him. The world up on the plateau was different. It seemed more vibrant. The world below where he had felt so at peace felt dull in comparison. A myriad of colors swallowed him. Flowers of every variety littered the ground, and he found himself stepping with as much care as he could manage to avoid accidentally crushing any. Everything seemed much more full of life. Whatever the trees had been trying to communicate to him before now made more sense like a puzzle with less pieces. A small pond lay at the center, its surface serene and clear like a sheet of glass, and not a soul dared stir it. The clearing was calm and peaceful, but not entirely empty. A tree at the far end was the first thing to truly stand out. It towered overhead, its trunk twisting and spinning around itself like five metal bars twirled together. Its roots spread far, sinking beneath the cool earth. Its branches swung upward and held a canopy that practically overshadowed the entire plateau.

What truly demanded his attention was not the behemoth tree, but instead what laid underneath it. The creature was larger than he thought could be possible, but compared to the tree it rested beneath it appeared small. It looked to be a dragon, like he had heard from some sort of fairy tale. It curled around the base of the tree greedily, like a flame hugging kindling. This creature, no... this dragon was different from anything he had ever heard of. Its body appeared to be made of wood, gnarled and knotted. Great wings were folded in on its side, but instead of a thin leathery membrane there were dark red leaves accompanied by branches that ran through them. Instead of claws of ivory like one might expect, the boy noticed that the dragon's claws sunk into the earth like roots. Thorns ran down its spine to the tip of its tail. Two antler like protrusions came from the crown of its head that bloomed with violet morning glories. Branches of lavender willow blossoms cascaded from the chin of his snout and peaks of his brows like a wizened beard. None of this caught his attention as much as the creatures eyes which glowed dimly behind their lids.

He stood in the reeds that laced the shore of the pond, the flower field forgotten. He could feel _it _more acutely than before. His abdomen radiated purple light, the lettering of his seal swallowed by the glow. _It _had gotten what _it _wanted. The pain reached far past unbearable, and any cognitive thought that flowed through his mind was drowned in the screaming of his body. It begged to rest, but his curiosity was not yet sated. He had found what he thought pulled him here, but why did he feel as if there was still something he had to do. His body tensed as a flicker of movement caught his gaze. The dragon lifted its head. Glossy mahogany fangs glinted in the sunlight, and a tongue of moss rolled from its mouth as a yawn stretched its jaws. Its eyelids snapped open, yellow light streaming forth from his eye sockets like twin suns. It pinned him then with its gaze like gravity held him there, immobile.

The dragon opened its mouth, but no words left. An instant later, wind swirled around his body and it spoke to him, "What is your name, beastling?"

His name? What an odd question. One he certainly hadn't expected. No one had ever cared for his name and in the scheme of things it seemed like useless baggage, but now this creature wanted to know it. It floated on the edge of his mind, and with whatever will he had left he brought it back from the dreary hole he had buried it in.

"Uzumaki Naruto." He responded. He was pleased to know his tone was certain as inky blackness swam on the edges of his vision. Weightlessness consumed him and he fell forward.

And then nothing.

The dragon watched the boy's motionless form for an unrecognizable amount of time. It snorted and a puff of water vapor sprung from his snout. It opened its maw once more and the air itself heeded its call. It swirled around the form of the downed boy to once again whisper to him.

"Pansy."

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><p><strong>This took forever to get from my head to the page, so don't expect frequent updates. <strong>


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